


Vanilla Curls and Soldier Boys

by namupokemanchan



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Creepy The Handler (Umbrella Academy), Everyone is awful and mean to five, F/M, M/M, Multi, OSHA would not be having this shit, also I'm going to fight carmichael, also he wants fortune cookies but who doesn't, carmichael does not understand consent, dolores is a beautiful black queen, five is a fucking alcoholic, five just wants to see his family again, he just needs a hug, or she does, she just doesn't give a shit, the handler also doesn't understand consent, this is a violation of workers rights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namupokemanchan/pseuds/namupokemanchan
Summary: I wrote the first few chapters drunk, can you tell?I can't summarize for shit.Five hates working for the Temps Aeternalis, because of fucking course he does. Dolores is literally the only nice person there and no one else understands personal space or consent.Carmichael introduces Five's new supervisor and yeah, yep, she's evil and bad.This is a vent fic mostly. Pretty dark
Relationships: Carmichael/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Dolores/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy/The Handler (Umbrella Academy)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	1. Elevator Music

Five snuffled sleepily and curled up against the warmth of Dolores next to him, hugging himself. The blanket was wrapped around him tightly, almost like a straight jacket. He rolled over, snuggling up against his wife.

"Mmph… you're cozy…" Five whispered sleepily, his voice slightly distorted.

"Am I now?" the voice that answered wasn't the sweet feminine one of his wife, but a darkly amused and obviously male voice. 

Number Five opened his eyes and stared at the cold glass tank and even colder beady black eyes of Carmichael. Five frantically pushed himself away from his employer, getting tangled in his blanket and falling off his bunk and onto the cold concrete floor.

Carmichael sat up on his employee's bed, looking down at Five like he was an insect trapped under a cup. Interesting enough to watch for a minute or two because killing and disposing of. 

Five untangled himself from his bedding, but then rewrapped the blanket around himself after realizing he was only wearing his underwear. "You- you can't do that!"

"Can't I? This is my company, after all, and this room is my property." The goldfish controlled cyborg stood up and leaned against the wall, his miniscule black eyes trained on his agent.

Five looked away. Those eyes made him uneasy. "Yeah, but… I live here, I sleep here. You can't wait until I'm awake and dressed?"

Carmichael laughed one of his dark robotic laughs. "Agent Five, I have seen ever single inch of your body, inside and out. Are you really going to get self conscious around me now?"

Five's cheeks turned a very light pink. "I- you haven't seen this body…"

"Believe me, I have." His employer opened one of his cupboards, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

Five scowled at Carmichael. "Those are mine."

Carmichael laughed again, bent down and pinched the smaller boy's cheek, hard. "What're you doing to do about it?" 

Five resisted smacking his hand away. This had become their routine since Five's body had be transformed into that of his ten year old self. Carmichael would treat him more like a disobedient child or an untrained dog than an employee, regularly disrupting Five's routine and invading his personal space. Axl and Fitz thought it was hilarious but knew better than to touch Agent 00.05, the Temps Aeternalis' most vicious killer.

So instead of smacking his employer's hand away, he looked at the floor and began counting in his head. Dolores had taught him that to keep his temper from boiling over at inopportune times. 

Carmichael released him after a second or two and took a drag on his cigarette through his animatronic "mouth" at the bottom of his tank. "I have a surprise for you."

Five rubbed at his cheek and looked up at him again. "Why." He deadpanned, internally groaning at the bruise he could feel forming on his face.

"Don't be rude, Number Five." Carmichael straightened up and looked down coldly at him. "Didn't your father teach you to respect your superiors?"

Five forced a smile onto his face. "Yes sir, he did. I'm…" he looked over at Dolores, who was sitting on his too large desk. 

"no one will think any less of you, my dear," she seemed to say. "it's not shameful to protect yourself."

Five smiled a small genuine smile at his wife and then looked up at Carmichael. "My apologies, sir. What's my surprise?"

"Much better, Agent Five." His boss smiled as well as any fish could and then put out his cigarette in Five's antique ashtray. "Your surprise is in my office, I'll see you there in… ten minutes. And wear something nice."

Five's stomach shifted uncomfortably and he adjusted his blanket higher up his chest. He began counting in his head again, his hands balling into fists and his nails digging into his palms. Another side effect of his new body was Carmichael treating him like a life sized doll.

After the aforementioned fish left his dorm, Five dropped his blanket and began getting dressed in the first three piece suit he found, eager to completely cover his body after what Carmichael had said.

"it's just for another year, darling," Dolores said softly, "then we can go home."

"I know, dear, I just…"

"You hate his attention to your body." His wife said understandingly.

Five sighed and walked over to kiss Dolores's cheek. "As long as he doesn't make me sit in an oversized chair again, I'll be alright, my love."

Dolores rubbed her soft brown thumb against the purple bruise on her husband's cheek. "I love you, Five." 

He smiled slightly and kissed her hand. "I love you too."

A few minutes later, Number Five was in the elevator, leaning against the wall and trying not to look at anyone. Axl and Sue were talking animatedly about a mission involving Chinese gangsters and a hidden gun as they walked into the elevator. Axl looked down at the smaller man and smiled coldly, his dark brown eyes glinting.

"Hey there Fivey," he drawled in his Cajun accent that Five had learned to attribute to his annoying presence.

Five looked down at his hands, seemingly focused on the dried blood under his nails. He was not interested in having a conversation with his least favorite person at the Temps Aeternalis. Well, after Carmichael of course.

Sue rolled her heavy lidded eyes and touched Axl's arm gently. "C'mon, really?"

Axl moved his arm away from her. "What? I can't talk to a fellow employee? By the way, nice hickey."

Five subconsciously covered the bruise on his cheek, glaring at the elevator floor. Still not looking at Axl or Sue, he thumbed the close door button in the elevator. 

Axl smirked, blocking the door with his foot and walked into the elevator with Sue on his heels. He moved to press the button for one of the lower floors, trapping Five against the wall. 

The smaller man shifted away and scowled. "Touch me again and I'll snap your throat."

Axl crouched down to Five's height and gently poked his nose with his artificially tanned finger. "No you won't, kiddo. Killing an employee is a seventy thousand dollar fine or an extra two years on your contract, and we all know you don't have any money." 

"Axl, don't-" Sue protested, moving to pull him away.

Five smacked Axl's hand away and grabbed his shirt collar. "Watching you die would be worth it."

The taller man smiled coldly, amused instead of threatened. "Worth more than your little family?"

The elevator dinged, signaling that it has reached Sue and Axl's floor and he pried Five's fingers off him before leaving the elevator with his partner.

Five glowered at the closing elevator door and adjusted his blazer. He hated that most of the Temps Aeternalis workers knew about his family back at the Umbrella Academy, hated that they knew they made him vulnerable and hated that he couldn't splatter the walls with Axl's insides.


	2. Ruby Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five meets the Handler and Carmichael thinks he has ownership of him

Lost in his thoughts, Five barely noticed when the elevator disappeared only to be replaced with Carmichael's office.

It looked more like a fancy dining room and living room mixed together than an office. A desk and high backed velvet chair in one corner with a matching velvet couch facing it, a long oak dining table with eight ornately carved chairs, piles of silk pillows surrounding a fancy rug, three walls which were covered in art from all eras and the one wall behind Carmichael's desk was completely covered in guns. From the world wars to the distant future, Carmichael had nearly every gun, providing it was lethal. He didn't care much for nonviolent negotiation.

As soon as Number Five stepped over the threshold, the goldfish looked up from his desk. "So glad you could join me, and only… ah, seven minutes late. Time keeping is a virtue, you know."

Five forced a smile. "Of course, my apologies."

Carmichael seemed appeased by his apology and stood up, walking over to the dinner table. He sat down at the head of the table and gestured for his employee to sit down next to him.

He begrudgingly sat down next to Carmichael, shifting uncomfortably in the hard backed chair. "I believe you mentioned a surprise?"

"Always so impatient. Yes, yes, your surprise." The fish pressed a button on the arm of his chair and Five flinched instinctively.

Carmichael laughed, amused by Five's extreme anxiety around him. "I'm not going to hurt you, silly little thing."

The smaller man glared at him. He hated the demeaning little nicknames that Carmichael would call him, even when they were around other people. Sweetie, silly little thing, dearest, silly bird, Fivey. All of them were increasingly aggravating and he hated them with a burning passion.

"I am not silly, I am not little and I am not a thing."

"Look at yourself, Fivey. You jump at small noises; silly. You're four feet and nine inches tall and 68 pounds; little, and you've signed your rights away to me, which I believe makes you a thing."

Five bit the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood and scowled at him. What he wouldn't give to see that infuriating goldfish stewing in a pot. Lost in his culinary revenge fantasy, he almost didn't notice a man dressed like a butler setting a tray covered with a silver cloche in front of him.

"Ah, thank you, Albert," Carmichael said politely, "Your surprise, Number Five."

The butler nodded at Carmichael before leaving the room and the fish leaned forward to lift the cloche off the tray.

The smell of freshly cooked Chinese food almost overpowered Five. He was so used to a rigid diet of protein shakes, flavorless rations and the occasional cup of coffee that he had nearly forgotten what real food smelled like.

Five ignored the chopsticks and grabbed a handful of chow mein, not caring about the mess he was making. He had missed food so much. Carmichael kept up a strain of conversation towards Five while he ate, which he was almost completely able to tune out until he heard "Your new supervisor."

Five looked up at him, a handful of lemon chicken falling onto the tablecloth.

Carmichael sighed. "Do you mind? That table runner is from fourteenth century Italy."

Five made a show of wiping his sauce covered fingers on the table runner. "What about a new supervisor?"

The fish tapped his fingers on the table, slightly annoyed. "Ah, yes. Your new supervisor. Since the fieldwork division is expanding, I've hired someone to work directly beneath me."

Five resisted the sex joke he could have made and bit a baby corn in half. It was going to be another cold older man or alien who didn't think healthcare was important, someone who hopefully wouldn't harass him, but would get at least one complaint from his female co-workers.

"Don't you want to know their name?" Carmichael asked, watching Five coldly.

"Not particularly," He replied, his mouth half full of lemon chicken and fried rice. 

"Manners, agent Five. You have been given utensils for a reason."

Five sighed, rolled his eyes and swallowed. "I don't care about my new supervisor. I'll be gone in a year and then I'll never see any of you assh- any of you people ever again."

Carmichael laughed lightly. "Oh I think you'll like her."

Her. That was new. Five scooped up a clump of fried rice, chicken and green onion and chewed slowly. "Yeah?"

His employer smiled one of his strange fish smiles. "Yes."

"Somehow I doubt that," Five replied coldly, shoving a large piece of lemon chicken into his mouth.

"Aw, why's that?" A sweet feminine voice tinkled softly from behind him. The voice was followed by the smell of vanilla and the quiet clicking of high heels.

Five looked around and stared up at the tall blonde woman standing behind him. 

"Hello dearie." She bent down, swiped a smudge of lemon chicken sauce off his cheek and licked her finger. Smiling at his expression, she moved to sit across from him.

Five blushed slightly and swallowed. "Uh-" He stared at the woman. She was tall (at least 5'8"), neatly curled blonde hair, ruby red lips curled into a soft smile, dark gray eyes, a perfectly made up face and a black dress with a wide hoop skirt and tight top, a collar just low enough to display her collarbones and an inch of her soft white chest.

She smiled, seeming to know the effect she was having on him. "Cat got your tongue, Agent Five?"

He blinked and bit his lip. "Ah, no. I'm alright, ma'am."

Carmichael introduced the woman for her. "This is Nicoletta Handler, your new supervisor."

Nicoletta Handler smiled slightly. "I'm so happy to have someone like you working beneath me, dear." The curve of her lips, the soft black arch of her finely penciled eyebrow that raised slightly. She knew what that sounded like.

Five blushed softly and picked up another piece of lemon chicken to occupy his hands.

Nicoletta wet her lips with her tongue before smiling at him. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Carmichael laughed lightly. "Oh he talks too much when he has something to say. Always complaining about me, his living quarters, his food. Usually me."

Nicoletta laughed her softly tinkly laugh that made Five feel things he shouldn't be feeling. "Aw, does he now? Well, any spirit can be broken by the right person.”

Carmichael stood up from the table and Five flinched. He had almost forgotten the fish was still there. Five was thoroughly reminded when his boss leaned over and ruffled his hair though. “I’ll leave you two crazy kids at it. Number Five. Nicoletta.”

She smiled and nodded at Carmichael as he left the room. Once he had left, The Handler leaned over the table, closing most of the space between her and Five. “What say you and I get out of here, hm? I’ve got a five year old scotch at my pad I’ve been wanting to break into.” 

Five perked up, interested in something for the first time that day. Next to good food, alcohol was one of the things he missed most. “I, uh- I don’t know if I should.” He didn’t know how Dolores would feel about him drinking with another woman.

Nicoletta smiled knowingly. “I promise to keep my hands to myself, Mr. Hargreeves. Please, humor me.”


	3. A Married Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super fucked up. 
> 
> The Handler takes Five back to her house, gets him drunk and yep :(
> 
> Trigger warning for: sexual assault, noncon/dubcon, drunk people, kind of pedophilia
> 
> The Handler is a creep.

Pad was a humble word for the living room Handler brought him too. There were velvet curtains, lace accents, plush couches, mahogany furniture and a large and ornate liquor cabinet which gave Five an incredible amount of envy. 

"You have a beautiful place," he observed, staring around the room. 

She smiled at him and gestured to the ceiling. "Really? I thought the crystal chandelier was too much."

He laughed, glancing up as he sat down on one of the couches. "Definitely not. I'm only allowed one personal item, so I'd kill for a room like this."

Nicoletta went to the liquor cabinet, pulling out an ornate bottle and two glasses. "Well if you ever need a break, you're welcome to stay here with me."

She smiled and handed Five the glass of scotch, either ignoring or not commenting on the light pink blush across his cheeks. 

He looked away from the blonde woman sitting next to him and took a sip of his drink. Her skirt had shifted to reveal the lace hem of her stockings as she sat down and he didn't want to be caught staring. 

Nicoletta coughed lightly, dabbing at her mouth with a handkerchief. "Oh dear, I didn't expect it to be that strong."

Five laughed and took a large sip of scotch, trying to prove a point. "Can't handle your liquor, ma'am?"

"Always so polite, even when you're being a little shit." She smirked and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Rather endearing."

He choked on his drink. "Miss Handler-?"

The Handler laughed, the toe of her high heel rubbing against his pants leg. "You're cute, Hargreeves."

Five flushed and crossed his legs instinctively. "I, uh- not really."

"And so humble too." She patted his hand lightly. 

Looking for a distraction, Number Five refilled his glass and took a sip, staring at the floor. 

Nicoletta leaned back, releasing Five's hand. "You sure you can handle that much booze, dear?"

"Of course I can, I'm a sixty year old man," He replied, trying and failing to exude confidence. 

Fifteen minutes to later, Five was tipsy, verging on drunk and The Handler hadn't taken more than a sip from her drink. 

"It's getting hot in here, you don't mind if I…?"

Five had no idea what she meant. "Oh yeah, no, sure. It's your house."

"Thank you, dear." She smiled at him and began unbuttoning the front of her dress, exposing the dark red bullet bra she was wearing. 

He stared at Nicoletta, turning bright red. "I-"

The Handler smirked and turned his face up so he was looking at her face instead of her chest. "My eyes are up here, darling."

Five made a stifled noise in the back of his throat as she began unbuttoning his blazer. "We don't want you overheating, do we?"

Nicoletta slid the miniature jacket off the child sized man in front of her before folding it and setting it down on the coffee table. 

Five rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. "We don't?"

"We absolutely don't." She pinched his cheek, eliciting a squeak from him. Leaning back against the back of the couch, Nicoletta patted her knee. 

"I-" Number Five laughed nervously again.

"Shhh, come here," The Handler said seductively, her velvety voice making Five melt as she slid her hands around his waist, pulling him onto her lap. 

Her hands traveled across his stomach, fiddling with the buttons on his dress shirt before unbuttoning one them one at a time. Urged on by the soft whimper Five made, Nicoletta sliding her hands under his shirt. 

Since his aging was reversed and he became a child physically, Five's body resiliently clung to his puppy fat. He had a bit of fat above the waistband of his pants and love handles despite the unconventional diet Carmichael had him on. 

The Handler pressed a kiss to the top of Five's head and began running her hands over his surprisingly soft and sensitive flesh. The way she was touching him was almost motherly, almost like how Grace would hold him when he had a stomach ache.

"Ma'am-" Five began but cut himself off with something between a squeak and a gasp. 

It was the most adorable sound The Handler had ever heard. "Awww," she cooed, pinching his stomach, hoping to elicit another noise and succeeding. 

Five’s much smaller hand brushed over the Handler’s pale one, trying to pull her long manicured nails away from his bare skin but could barely move them in his drunk state. “I’m married, miss…”

She laughed sweetly, moving her hands up to his chest. That laugh still got to him, especially with the soft fingers touching him in all the right places. “Aw, your wife’s never going to find out, don’t worry your pretty little head.”

“But-” Five started to protest before The Handler turned him around on her lap, pulling him into a silencing kiss. His lips were much smaller than hers and rather rough from his stress biting. 

Five and Dolores rarely touched each other like this, especially since he had de-aged. During the apocalypse kissing passionately was a waste of energy that could be used to find food and now Five’s schedule left almost no time for recreation, plus after all the comments Carmicheal made about him Five didn’t want to do anything sexual with his wife, at least not until he could get an adult’s body. A few soft kisses were fine, falling asleep in Dolores’ arms was the best part of his day and waking up to a kiss and cuddle from her was always welcome but that was it. 

The way The Handler was kissing him, paired with one hand gripping his waist and the other running its fingers over the hem of his pants was nothing less than overwhelming. Her fingers hooked under the waistband of his dress pants, her other hand working to undo his belt. Five tried to push her hand away again but she either interpreted that as him trying to help her undress him or deluded herself into thinking that. 

She pulled her mouth off his to press a kiss right beneath his ear. “Such a good boy~”

“Please, miss,” Five managed to choke out, his words slurring together. 

The Handler ignored him, moving to bite along his neck as she undid his belt. Her hands easily undid the buckle of his belt and the buttons of his slacks, sliding them off her prey along with his shoes and socks. 

The Temps Aeternalis didn’t make uniform code underwear in Number Five’s size so he had to make due with larger pairs, using safety pins and occasionally duct tape to make them fit his much smaller frame. 

"You're just precious, darling," Nicoletta cooed, squeezing his thighs gently before sliding her hands up his legs. Her nails dragged over his skin, causing Five to whimper. 

Every touch was too much for his body with its heightened senses. Her nails too sharp, her lips too aggressive, her fingers too- 

The Handler’s hand wrapped around over his entire clothed cock and Five moaned inadvertently, his thighs clamping together and his toes curling. “Oh god-”

She smirked, before pressing a kiss to his forehead as she fondled him through his underwear, her free hand pinning his thigh to the couch. “Such a needy little boy,” The Handler drawled, her voice overflowing with sensuality as she began sliding off his underwear. 

"Ma'am," Five tried protesting again, pulling himself away from her. "My wife-"

"Shhh," The Handler hissed, pressing a finger to his lips. "Let's not talk about her right now, dumpling."

"But-" Nicoletta silenced him with another kiss, more aggressive than the first, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and dominating his mouth with her tongue. 

Distracted by the taste of blood and booze, Five hardly noticed when his underwear was taken off until The Handler pulled away, ending their kiss with a wet sound. 

Her blonde hair was coming out of its tight curls, her lipstick was smudged around his lips and the top of her dress had been completely pushed away, the left strap of her bra sliding down her shoulder. The Handler still looked like a proper lady, just one who was slightly disheveled but she looked at Five the same way a tiger looks at a gazelle. 

But this gazelle was drunk. This gazelle was drunk, tiny and couldn't run. 

And the tiger was power hungry, strong enough to snap his neck. The tiger wanted his body, his insides and anything else it could get from him. 

Number Five was drunk enough that he barely noticed what The Handler was doing to him until he felt two fingers push inside him. Her nails scraped along his insides and Five did the worst possible thing he could imagine. 

He started to cry. Hot salty tears that stung his eyes and made him look like a child more than anything else. Like a sad child getting fingered.

The Handler sighed and pulled her fingers out, wiping the blood off on her dress. "Hush, sweetie pie, you're fine."

He wasn't fine.


End file.
